Autumn
by ClinicalCriminal
Summary: Why was it that this monster society hated was nothing but a mere man to her, a man far too intelligent for his own good, a man who would threaten his freedom to come see her over and over again? Chapter Two added!
1. Chapter 1

**Autumn **

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters involved within this story, they belong to the talented Thomas Harris.

**A/N:** Yes, the cliffhanger is clichéd, but I promise you, follow this and I hope in my heart you all enjoy it.

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**Chapter One**

One thing that Clarice Starling had always admired was how the radiant leaves of the summer trees slowly began to wither away into tiny specs of their former selves during autumn. Their brightly coloured stalks shrivelling into nothing more than a brown stump and the leaf that once held such beauty became crispy, dull and a small haven to hedgehogs and insects. Something which once was full of life, drained into loitering on paths or being kicked into the air by small children.

She liked to compare the autumn leaves to her career.

She once was full of life and determination to get the job done, that small spark deep inside of her heart willing her to go further to please not only herself, but also her father and her superiors. And like the small children to the leaves, her once highly thought of bosses kicked her into the air without a hope in hell and she fell hard. She was a shell of her former self, she still kept fit and worked out, she still followed the news with enough enthusiasm to push her further into creating herself a new career, not with the FBI but with herself. A dream that she had held onto before her career spiralled out of control into a laughable mess.

She wasn't a clown, so why had her disgraced leave of the Bureau tickled so many people? She had put her soul into finding Jame Gumb and putting a stop to his sick fantasy. He had killed innocent women for the pleasure of a suit made of human skin to please, to fool his mind into thinking that he was a woman himself.

She had put a stop to Evelda Drumgo, an HIV positive drug smuggler and mother, who was ruthless in killing Clarice's fellow FBI friends and agents. Who would stop at nothing to try and kill Clarice herself.

She had stopped Mason Verger, a crazed and insane man intent on revenge of the man she thought so highly of yet feared deeply. A man that had helped her, soothed her and comforted her but had haunted her dreams. A man so desperate for freedom he would die if ever caught again.

And she had stopped herself from becoming the women she was born to be, a strong willed woman with a brilliant career ahead of her. Instead she had sabotaged any chance of becoming a respectable Agent, her peers despised her for stopping Jame Gumb, for having a strange relationship with a serial killer, a cannibal but also a human being. So young and so full of life, the thing she wanted most in life had drained her to the point where she could no longer enjoy the career she had strived to create from an early age.

And as she jogged through the woodland she knew like the back of her hand, she thought about autumn, her career, her enemies and herself and she willed herself to continue jogging, to run as far as she could from life itself. Clarice needed an out, needed a change of scenery. A change of life.

She could only run for so long, and before she knew it she had reached the Mustang she had traded in for her well-worn pinto, an upgrade on both car and herself. She stared at the vehicle for some time, her sight blurring into a kaleidoscope of colours, which made her dizzy. Lazily she unlocked the driver's door and ducked inside, tucking her legs behind the wheel. Closing her eyes, Clarice dreamed of a tropical island full of golden sand, water so clear and a sun so bright it melted her from the inside.

A tap on her window startled Clarice from her day dream, a small balding man glared at her, he had a park attendants uniform on, his badge read ' Hank '.

Rolling down her window she stared at the man questioningly, his balding head sending a glare of sunlight her way.

"You shouldn't be here, missus."

"I was just leaving."

The man looked at her and blinked slowly. His breath smelled of stale whiskey, his once blue eyes fading to a dull grey.

"Alright."

With a slight limp Hank turned from the Mustang and began making his way to the woods.

The drive to Clarice's small apartment took no longer than twenty minutes, she parked her Mustang and slowly walked up her path, the weeds she had missed during the summer starting to come through the cracks. She sighed and unlocked her door, kicking it shut she dropped her keys in the bowl that lay on the table next to her door and slipped her shoes off.

Rest was the only thing on her mind as she made her way to her un made bed. Without heir or grace Clarice landed face first on the bed and slept, dreaming of the one person she wished to see.

Clarice had always been a light sleeper, the cat she had back in college had to be given up due to the fact it would always wake her, posing as an intruder. Her dreams of the lambs somehow plaguing her every thought and waking her with no remorse. The small thump that came from the living room jerked Clarice awake and alerted her to a presence that wasn't welcome in her home. Ardelia had a key, but she would always phone first before coming over, it couldn't be her.

Clarice's breath hitched in her throat, one man came to mind but she dared not think it was him, she had tried to re capture him, bargain with him to let the late Paul Krendler go, she had stupidly tried to stab him with a butter knife. It had left her caught in the fridge by her hair watching the man she wanted leaving, escaping to some other country, posing as a tourist or curator or simply a neighbour.

Another small thump made her jump back into reality, grabbing the gun she kept in her bedside drawer, she took to the predatory stance she was taught and slowly hunted whoever had decided to break and enter the sanctuary of her home.

In the dark it was hard to notice small things, for example shadows. Clarice had started hating the dark after she killed Jame Gumb, his basement so dark she couldn't see her small pale hand in front of her eyes, so dark the only things she could trust was her fear and her instincts. He of course had had his trusty night vision goggles, ogling her and undressing her with his eyes. Would have she made a lovely collection to the many skins that adorned his unfinished suit? Just thinking of the past brought a stab of anger to her chest; she tried to rub it away while willing the tears that were forming in the corner of her eyes to go away.

Crawling through the hall was an easy task, it was narrow and dark but the always alert Clarice had thought about what to adorn the dull hall with, not a table or a plant, those things would get in the way and due to her new habit of falling over things she thought it wise to keep it empty. Another small thump followed a swishing sound and Clarice frowned. This wasn't Doctor Lecter's M.O. He was always careful as to make as little noise as possible; surely he knew she was a light sleeper? He'd been in her house on one occasion that she knew of and she had slept soundly while he wandered her rooms and did god knows what. He obviously hadn't satisfied his curiosity if the person inside her living room was him.

Standing still outside the living room door she noticed it was slightly ajar, a dark silhouette of a figure floating aimlessly back and forth between the light. Clarice wiped a bead of sweat that had decided to trickle slowly down the side of her face, when had she become this nervous? Gun cocked, she blinked hard, controlled her breathing and quickly opened the door. Her light switch was on her left hand side; frantically she tried to find it while her right hand tried to follow the pattern of the silhouetted figure.

Her finger brushed the switch, a gasp of joy escaped her mouth and her world turned black. With a thump, she hit her carpeted floor and dropped her gun. The un welcome figure stared at her body for awhile before placing a finger at the edge of his nose and inhaling deeply.

"Whatever shall I do with you, my dear Clarice?"


	2. Chapter Two

**Autumn**

**Disclaimer:** See Chapter One.

**A/N:** Well, I've finally finished this chapter. I had a slight bout of writer's block but I'm back on track after writing at LEAST 5 versions of this before I stuck to this one. The next chapter will be the last and then I'll see if I can be bothered to write an epilogue, thank you to all who have reviewed so far, but don't fret I have another story that's in the making, it'll be posted in the Silence Of The Lambs category because…yup…you guessed it, it's all centred around and during Silence Of The Lambs. I hope this chapter lives up to the first..

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**Chapter Two**

A small moan escaped Clarice's mouth as she tried to open her eyes. Waiting for several seconds she tried to adjust to the darkness. What the hell had happened? She could remember trying to flick the living room switch on and then nothing, just blackness. Licking her dry lips she frowned at her cotton mouth, she hadn't been drugged that was for sure, the headaches were normally ten thousand times worse than the one she had at the moment, not that Clarice Starling was drugged often.

Moving her right arm she tried to reach the back of her head, that's when she noticed she had been tied to one of her dining room chairs…how cliché.

Ok, so…whoever had had the balls to break into her home knew that she'd most probably struggle or put up a fight. That left one madman who knew absolutely everything he needed to know about her…shit.

For several minutes she tried to struggle out of her bonds, it was no use. They had been tied in such a way that struggling would tighten the rope on her wrists and ankles.

"Son of a bitch!"

A shuffling came from her right side and then she could feel warm breath on her face. Her stomach now turning to a pool or warm heat, she waited for that metallic rasp to jolt against her face.

"Ah, Clarice. I see my sleeping beauty has awakened. How are you feeling?"

Clarice breathed evenly through her nose and tried not to panic as his maroon eyes travelled the length of her body and then back up to her face. He had already started to think of Clarice as his own she knew that sooner or later he would try to brand her, finally make her his. Clarice gulped at the thought, what was he doing in her house? He must have come back to finish her off, she had turned him down and then tried to capture him, her plan had backfired and he had left leaving her life in ruins. Why was it that when Clarice really needed him he would always return and be there for her? They must somehow have been telepathic; Dr Lecter could sense and hunt down pain and at the back of her mind, Clarice always knew when the Doctor was around. He searched her eyes looking for an answer, she knew he had a great sense of smell so her fear must have been hitting him in small wafts; Dr Lecter always had the upper hand.

"I've felt better, Dr Lecter. I can't say that being knocked out in my own home is a regular occurrence, so please excuse me if I seem a little anxious."

She watched as the Doctor chuckled and drew his face closer to Clarice's. His eyes seemed as if they were on fire, hot coals burning with desire. She tried to look away, but Clarice was always drawn back to those eyes, those windows of hidden secrets. In the dark she could only see his eyes, she wondered if he could read the expression on her face at the moment, she knew he had great hearing abilities and his sense of smell was scary it was obvious then that his eyesight must have been sharp. He breathed in deeply and backed away from Clarice, his maroon eyes blinking twice in quick succession.

"I apologise sincerely Ex Special Agent Starling, had I known that knocking you out would have offended you so much I would have merely drugged you instead."

Clarice licked her dry lips and tried fretfully to get her wrists out of their bonds, where had she dropped Brigham's gun?

"You know that's not what I meant, Dr Lecter."

"Hmm, true my dear but isn't this _fun_?"

She pulled at her bonds, the rope seemed to pull tighter and tighter, wasn't there a way to loosen the knot? Trying to keep her facial expression impassive, Clarice tried to manoeuvre her right wrist over her left leaving room for her right wrist to slide out of the tricky bonds, Dr Lecter had set.

"Struggling, Clarice? I can assure you that struggling will only make matters worse."

Clarice sighed and bent her head towards her chest in defeat. What was the point in trying? He had her where he wanted her and she knew she couldn't out run Dr Lecter and he was far stronger that she had anticipated the first time she had tried to immobilise him with a candle holder. What would he think of her now, this monster that had obsessed about her ever since their first meeting? How would he feel knowing that the once brave Clarice had turned into a quivering weak mess, no job, and no life? She had nothing left.

Dr Lecter shifted, his right hand finding it's way under her chin, lifting her head to meet his gaze. He looked somewhat pained at her lack of fight.

"Why do I sense, Clarice, that my once brave warrior has now given up?"

She could feel the tears in here eyes before he even opened his mouth, he knew now that she was nothing but a mere shell of her former self, he would grow tired of her and most probably kill her tonight. A blessing on both sides.

"Answer me, Clarice? Why the lack of fight? Surely you haven't just given up."

Clarice sighed, her words shaky. "And what if I have, Doctor? Will you gobble me up? I'm not that same damned woman I was when I tried to save your ass and ended up getting my hair caught in the fridge. Life has thrown _everything_ at me; and it's changed me for the worse. I can't go on like this; all I want now is to find peace, be it in life or in death. I just want something to hold onto."

Clarice's voice had become a mere whisper as the tears took over and spilled over her long eyelashes to travel down her cheeks. She hated crying, she felt weak and unstable, but ever since he had left her all she would do is cry, it had become second nature to Clarice. Ardelia had stopped visiting because of the position Clarice would always put her in. Nobody knew how to calm a crying woman never mind a hysteric one.

Dr Lecter grabbed Clarice's head between his hands and forced her to look into his maroon depths, he stared at her for what seemed like forever, is warm breath coating her face in even puffs.

"Look at me, Clarice. There is more to life than just living, hold onto yourself and stop with this self-pitying it will get you nowhere. What I see before me is a woman, a warrior afraid of nothing but silencing those lambs. Silence them Clarice, and all will become clear."

His soft hands softened their grip on her face as his fingers brushed away her tears. Why was it that this monster society hated was nothing but a mere man to her, a man far too intelligent for his own good, a man who would threaten his freedom to come see her over and over again? What was so special about her? An Ex Special Agent for the FBI who had no mother and no father, only her career to cling to and then suddenly that was gone leaving her with a whole load of shit being dumped on her. Was it her pain? Her will to look at someone and see them as a lamb, the lamb that she couldn't save?

Clarice felt Dr Lecter's gaze burning into her own eyes, melting her and piecing her together again. The sparks she once feared now held such beauty that she couldn't look away, never again.

"Why are you here?" Her question was but a mere whisper. Dr Lecter looked at her thoughtfully, his eyes widening for a split second then returning to their normal size. Maybe there was a little fight in her after all.

"I would have thought that would have been obvious, Clarice."

"These games you play, Dr Lecter could land you in a whole lot of trouble."

"Mmm, indeed. Do you, Ex Special Agent Starling tire of my games? I can assure you that a truthful answer would be best given under the circumstances."

Clarice shook her head.

"Was that a no, Clarice? Make up your mind now."

Swallowing hard, Clarice shook here head again. "No."

Dr Lecter licked his lips and smiled widely, had it been anyone else sitting in the chair Clarice sat in they would have surely screamed in terror.

"Good. Now, I think we've been in darkness long enough, don't you dear? I'm going to switch the light on. It might be a tad bit uncomfortable for a moment, the eyes are such fickle things."

Clarice could hear expensive shoes clicking on her tiled kitchen floor; she braced herself for the onslaught of bright lights burning her eyes. A soft click and her kitchen erupted in a flash of light. It took her several moments to get used to lights again. When her eyes finally opened she found Dr Lecter standing in front of her, his eyes closed like so long ago in the dungeon, getting used to the light that Dr Chilton had banned in his cell for his bad behaviour. Only this time he was dressed in his own attire, a black shirt that matched his black slacks and shoes. He looked every bit the handsome gentleman. His hair as always sleeked back to perfection. Quickly he opened his eyes, the small look of innocence on his pale face now gone, replaced with a raw look of hunger.

"That's better. I do like to look at you when we talk, Clarice."

_We begin by coveting what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body, Clarice?_

Again, Clarice tried to move her wrists out of the bonds, the rope cutting into her skin deeper and deeper.

"You look uncomfortable, Clarice? All that moving around, your wrists must be in pain, if I untie your hands, do you promise to not try anything foolish?"

"Yes."

She watched as he slowly walked behind her chair, she knew he most probably had his trusted Harpy with him. She felt his hands caressing her wrists before he cut the rope once, letting the now useless bond fall to the ground.

Immediately, Clarice rubbed her wrists, the red indentations of where the rope had dug into her skin itching with the lack of circulation. A sigh of relief escaped her throat as she felt her wrists start to gain some feeling in them.

"Thank you."

Before Lecter could offer her good manners with a reply, they both heard the handle of Clarice's front door wriggle continuously, first slowly and then gaining speed and force.

"CLARICE? IT'S ME, ARDELIA. OPEN UP THE DOOR HON, PLEASE."

Clarice looked quickly to Dr Lecter and then to the kitchen door, which was partially open. If Ardelia found Clarice and Lecter in this position she was sure that Ardelia wouldn't hesitate to pop a cap in Dr Lecter's ass. This was all that she needed.

Dr Lecter shut the kitchen light off and wandered into the shadows as they both heard the click of a key entering Clarice's keyhole and then pinging as the door unlocked. Damn it! Clarice forgot that she had given Ardelia keys incase of an emergency.

The front door slammed open and then closed, she could hear Ardelia fumbling from one room to another and calling out Clarice's name when she couldn't find her. What the hell was wrong with her? She prayed that she didn't enter the kitchen; she knew Dr Lecter would kill anyone who stood in the way of his freedom.

"Clarice? Clare? Where are you? Fuck! He's here, back in America, Clarice! Lecter's back, we need you to come down to-"

As Ardelia opened the kitchen door, Clarice closed her eyes wishing that she would just go away. She knew for a fact that her friend wouldn't stand a chance against Dr Lecter, he had the upper hand. He knew she was there, unfortunately Ardelia didn't know he was there…yet.

A gasp of surprise escaped Ardelia's throat as she felt the cool tip of a blade slip underneath her throat and rest against her jugular. Clarice opened her eyes knowing that she couldn't see in the dark, but hoping for some unknown reason that Dr Lecter hadn't killed her best friend.

Both Ardelia and Clarice shuddered as they heard the amused metallic rasp of Hannibal Lecter's voice in the silenced room.

"Isn't this a pleasant surprise?"


End file.
